


The Weekend: Dawn

by SlytherinSweetheart1



Series: The Weekend [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:33:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15851691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinSweetheart1/pseuds/SlytherinSweetheart1
Summary: Jack O'Neill is about to take her home.The overnight bag is on her shoulder, her dress blues in their carry case, all she has to do is exit the motel room and she will be in his car. In his arms. On a one way track to his bed.Sequel to The Weekend.





	The Weekend: Dawn

Chapter 2: Dawn  
Summary:  
The morning after.

Chapter Text  
Sam splashes cold water on her face, her heart beating wildly. She looks at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and wonders how she had gotten to this point. Her date, a recently divorced, recently retired, and -Sam suspects - often irreverant Colonel had turned out to be something else. And while she isn't sure that she will forgive Charlie for sticking her in the middle of such an awkward situation, she can't help but blush at what she is about to do. 

Jack O'Neill is about to take her home. 

The overnight bag is on her shoulder, her dress blues in their carry case, all she has to do is exit the motel room and she will be in his car. In his arms. On a one way track to his bed. 

Sam hadn't made much of a habit of going home with men she had just met, but the chemistry between them had turned palpable. It felt electrifying to just sit next to him in the cab of his truck, listening to him talk. 

'God' she thinks 'I had practically thrown my self at him. Asking him to...' but she can't even say the words in her own head. Mortifying. 

The morning sun shines in her eyes when the motel room door slams behind her. Jack is leaning against the truck, sunglasses on, his fingers opening and closing a cigarette packet. 

When he sees her, he pushes away from the car and reaches for her. Sam thinks this is it, that he is about to kiss her, and her heart skips a beat. Instead, Jack grabs the bag from her shoulder and opens the passenger door. And then he throws her the keys. 

"You drive. I'll instruct. It will be great". 

Her surprised face makes him laugh, and it breaks the ice wonderfully. 'Smarmy bastard', Sam thinks.

\---

If someone later asked her to describe what they spoke about, or the road where he lived, or what his house looked like, she wouldn't be able to answer. She is wildly aware of the nervous laughter building up in the back of her throat, and of the gentleness of his eyes as he looks at her. His hand is warm on the small of her back as he leads her through his front door. 

Before she can work up the courage to kiss him, the sound of her stomach growling fills the room. 

"Pancakes?" Jack asks, and without waiting for her answer, proceeds to what she assumes is his kitchen. 

She follows him, a little bit lost. The scene turns pretty domestic pretty soon, and that frightens her. She had planned on spending the weekend re-reading her lecture notes, maybe looking at some new research. Instead, she's in a strange man's kitchen, watching him make breakfast, wondering how she could get out of there. 

"Eat" he says, and nudges her with his hip as he hands her the plate. That is the first time he had touched her in the last twenty minutes, and the easy attraction of the car has now dissolved into anxiety. 

"Do you want to have sex?" Sam asks, setting the plate down, her nervousness turning into bluntness. 

Jack doesn't respond. He looks at her until she squirms under his gaze. She had, up until that moment, thought she was made of sterner stuff. His smile is slow and teasing as he steps towards her. Instinctually, Sam takes a step back, and another, until she can feel the kitchen bench digging into her buttocks.

In the yellow kitchen, filled with sunshine, Jack O'Neill drops to his knees in front of her. His hands trail from calf to thigh as he nudges her legs apart. His face presses against the apex of her thighs, and he mouths at her through her jeans. Her brain short circuits. Jack's hands are now palming at her ass, unzipping and pulling at her jeans, until she is standing in front of him in black cotton underwear, panting. His gaze follows his hands and the weight of his attention is heady.

"You know" she begins "I was mostly kidding about the.. I mean. You don't have to..ah!" her words curl into an exclamation, as Jack's fingers brush between her legs. The underwear is sodden, and he begins to stroke her slowly with his right hand. With his left, Jack guides Sam's leg over his shoulder and then he is placing open mouthed kisses against her core. The underwear creates a wonderful friction and Sam wonders if she is ever going to look at a pair of cotton knickers in the same way. 

The absurd thought falls away, as Jack's fingers dip - just barely - into her opening. His actions push the fabric of the panties into her. She so desperately wants to feel him inside of her and this feels incomplete but so so good. 

"God, oh God, oh God" she pants, confused, knowing that she isn't usually so vocal. The sleep deprivation is making her slightly delirious, she thinks. 

Again, and again, and again, the broad strokes of his tongue flatten against her clit. She needs more, needs to feel him on her. He hasn't actually touched her, she thinks. She's frantic, pushing her hips towards him. Jack's mouth closes over her clit, and through the fabric, he sucks on it fiercely. 

"Please, touch me. Please." 

Instead, he continues his ministrations, until she is incoherent. He has two fingers rubbing at her entrance, his mouth working over her clit - when she feels the hand that had been holding her steady palm more insistently at her ass. Those fingers tuck the fabric of her underwear into the crease, which mostly dislodges the fingers that are inside of her, but now there is a surprisingly wonderful new type of pressure. 

She's appalled to find herself pushing back against the fingers that are resting between her buttocks, almost, almost, allowing one of them entry in a way she had never even considered before. 

"Jack. Please. Jack". 

When he bites at her clit through the underwear, Sam comes. She suspects Jack is holding up her weight, a digit of each hand pushing the fabric into her. 

Weaves of heat wash over her. Each time punctuated by the slight movements of his fingers. He continues to nibble at her until the friction becomes too much, forcing her to push herself further onto the finger in her ass so as to lessen the sensation. The intrusion is overwhelming and frightening in its intensity. Sam realises he hadn't kissed her yet but now he is knuckle deep inside her ass. Fuck. 

When the pleasure wanes enough for her legs to relax, his hands reach to steady her thighs and guide her foot to the ground. She feels the loss of his fingers and a vague sense of emptiness settles like a low buzz under her skin. 

He nuzzles at her thigh, and then bites the flesh there. The first touch of his mouth on her directly. She suspects she may bruise. 

Jack smirks at her as he gets up, and steps away. 

"Eat your pancakes, Samantha, and then come to bed."


End file.
